


Good, Now Listen!

by wintertea



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Multi, Other, idk what else, this is just for fun while I am on break
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-17
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-07-24 13:13:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7509748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintertea/pseuds/wintertea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's hard to be Samuel Seabury. Between being a sophomore English teacher at a public high school and having very few actual friends, life can be pretty intense for him, and it doesn't help that his uptight, know-it-all, "King of the World" rival teaches in the hall across from him. Maybe though, that's not such a bad thing. After all- it is good to keep your enemies close!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fighting is Inevitable

_“Humans fight each other because we dislike the ideas of one another. We fight ourselves in our own minds to defeat our mental barriers and open up to new, interesting ideas. We fight to…”_

_Writing is hard._

            Samuel stood up from his chair.  It was very early in the morning, and the city streets were buzzing, as usual.  He always started the day with a bit of writing, whether it was poetry, an essay, or working on his novel of no current name. Samuel considered himself somewhat of an amateur writer, if that was the word. He woke up pretty early in the morning to complete his entries into his novel, which was taking more effort that it really needed to. It was a very long process, as he would claim.

            But now, he was out of his chair. Writing can be hard when one has little inspiration. And also when they are stressed, that could also be an important factor. That was no matter, though. It was time for him to get himself ready for more important things, like work. The first day of high school was going to be tomorrow, which is much less exciting when you’re actually a teacher, rather than a student. That is, if you aren’t Samuel Seabury. Samuel was an English teacher for Abraham Public High School, and Samuel liked high school students- well, at least, he liked most of the students taking his class. The day before school starts is the day that the teachers would need to get their classrooms ready, and also discuss the first lesson plans with other teachers in their department. It’s a busy day for everyone.

            Samuel walked about three feet within his apartment when- lovely timing- his phone rang. “Why now,” he mumbled to himself, before turning around and picking it up. It was Angelica Schuyler, another from the English department.

            “Angie,” Samuel said, propping the phone between his shoulder and ear.

            “Don’t…” Angelica replied immediately, “Do not call me that.”

            Samuel smirked. “Sorry, sorry. What do you want from me, oh so early in the morning, _Mz. Schuyler?_ ”

            A sigh could be heard through the phone. “Have you gotten the lesson plans figured out? I’ve been trying to decorate my room and write out some worksheets, but I have almost nothing for the lesson on annotations.”

            “Why are you talking to me about this now, Angelica?” Samuel grabbed two pieces of bread and popped them both into a toaster. “Just confront me once we arrive at Abraham.”

            “That’s the problem; I’m not going to be at the school today. I have to participate in the ‘Day Before’ class for new teachers, and I’ve been so busy preparing that that I totally slacked off on writing lesson plans. If you don’t want to help me, that’s fine, but please tell me who might be able to.”

            “No, no,” Samuel said, “I’ll send you my lesson plan. But only this once, because I’m probably going to be the one to need _your_ lesson plans some day in the future.” He took the toast out of the toaster and slathered butter on them, before reaching in his refrigerator for some apple juice.

            “Thanks Sam, you’re a life saver. Just send it to my work e-mail. If it’s a slide show, just link me in the drive, please.”

            “Wait, if you don’t know the lesson, how are you going to teach it?”

            “I’m sincerely good at acting, is all. Thanks a bunch! Hope you have a good year!” Angelica hung up the phone. That last statement seemed slightly sarcastic, but Samuel paid little attention to it. The morning had definitely started off abnormally.

            On his way out, Samuel checked his clock to make sure he would be on time. For today, he would only need to be to Abraham by 8:30 AM, but on any other day, teachers must be at the school by 6:30 to be signed in and ready by seven. He knew this already, and was somewhat excited for the days ahead of him.

            Samuel boarded a public bus. It went to a few places to pick up people, and- low and behold, he was met by his _absolute favorite_ douche bag. It was unusual, because Samuel normally took an earlier bus, but today he must have been unlucky with timing. A tall, rather lanky man with blonde hair pulled in a nice low ponytail slipped on the bus, swiftly making his way to the empty area to stand. This area just so happened to be right next to Samuel, who was already contemplating in what ways he would tell George to shove off, but George just looked down at him and smirked. Samuel looked away, trying to ignore their interaction. He tried to compose himself- the man hadn’t even talked to him yet! Samuel was a grown adult, so it should not make him angry that another grown man looked at him. However, Samuel is also completely ridiculous, although he won’t admit it. George left at his stop, and Samuel’s heart stopped beating so furiously.

That was weird.

            Samuel got off at the closest bus stop to the school. The building was, in all respects, nice. It was two stories high, with the Language Arts classes all being on the bottom floor. Samuel made his way in the back, and as soon as he was inside the building, he was greeted by another fellow English teacher.

            “Morning, Seabury. You’re almost late.” Alexander Hamilton, the AP Writing “professor,” as he was called. He’s one of the harshest teachers at the school. He started college at sixteen, and was able to get his degree earlier than most, so he was younger than most of the other Advanced Placement teachers.  He had a reputation of giving his students nightmares.

            “I’m fine, thank you. By the way, how is your house holding up? I hear it barely survived the storm.” Samuel gave a little smirk, patted his slightly disgruntled coworker on the back, and continued walking toward his classroom.

            “ _505, 507, 509, ah, 511.”_ He thought, moving down the hall. The words “English-10 honors” were plated in faux gold on the door, and my, was it a pretty classroom. Samuel unlocked it and opened it up, breathing in the fresh air of an already well-set-up room, and sat in his little swivel chair for the first time in- well, that week. He’d been to the school many a times during the summer to get it set up before today, but it was always rather exciting to feel the classroom the day before school buzz. Not so much around the middle of the year, when he was tired with the kids already, but that was irrelevant around now.  Right now, it was time for before class excitement, broken coffee machines, and Samuel’s frantic, unprepared colleagues.

            Samuel opened up his computer, which was already set up on his big desk in the corner of the room. He went through his E-mail  inbox for student requests and such. _“Spam, spam, a letter from Angelica about the new teachers- I’ll read it later. More spam, an E- mail from the math department about PSATs…_ ” No student e-mails? That’s odd. Maybe that was good though, that his schedule wouldn’t be messed up, however he did really need the roll call list.

            As Samuel sent the lesson plan to Angelica, he checked the clock. He’d only been there for about thirty minutes, but he had nothing to do. That was when he got yet _another_ call from Angelica, and this time, he was eager to talk through his boredom.

            “Mz. Schuyler?”

            “Samuel, this is important. Can you please tell me the number of the vacant English-9 classroom- the Honors class, not the regulars. And please tell me that it’s set up.

            Samuel looked out of his classroom. “512, right across from me. And yes, it’s set up. Lovely decorations I must say.”

            “Thanks, the board set it up, along with the teacher that will be using that classroom. I’d help the math department with their stuff, but I have about a thousand bones to pick with Mr. Jefferson, so I’ll have to leave that to them.”

            “You sure do a lot for an English teacher,” Samuel said, nearly ready to pack up his things.

            “I know. Oh, and the new recruit, he said he knew all about you! Luckily enough, I was able to catch his name. It must be nice to have a friend coming to teach with you.

            “Excuse me?” Samuel asked, confused. “My friend? The only friend I have that’s not already a coworker of mine is Charles, and he lives in New Jersey, currently.”

            “Oh?” Angelica questioned, her tone a little quieter. “You know a Mr. Frederick, do you not?”

            ‘ _She couldn’t be talking about him.’_ Samuel thought to himself. _‘There was no way she could be talking about him. I mean, just because they attended the same sorts of College classes and were both interested in writing doesn’t mean that he-‘_

            “Mister…” Samuel cracked his neck just the slightest bit. “Mr. Frederick? As in-“

            “George. Do you know him? He seems like a nice sort of guy. Very Rococo type of decoration sense. Says you two are lovely pals. He gave me his address and it was… the same apartment complex as yours and mine.”

            Samuel was silent for a minute, while a million things went over in his mind. “Oh, yeah, I know that dick.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first Chapter! I'm pretty excited to be writing for the Hamilton fandom. It's pretty new to me, and that's always exciting.  
> I was a little hesitant at first to put out this AU and idea because I thought it might be a little OOC to have them dislike each other right now, but the creative writing nerd part of me went "screw it," so here we are.  
> Thanks for reading!


	2. I'd Move Rooms if I Could

“ _We fight to show dominance. And we fight to show that we will never surrender, no matter what it takes. And that means too that…”_

            Oh, now _this…_ this was awful. If it wasn’t already bad enough that Samuel had somebody that he considered an enemy in the first place, he also had to deal with him being literally across the hall from him, five days a week, every single day. Plus, it was hard for him to think of what to write, now that he has to deal with _him_ all day. It’s a disaster.

            _And why the hell did George call him his friend?_

            A new morning, a fresh start. Not as good as it could have been, though. This morning, however, he could not write a single thing correctly. If it weren’t for him and his stupid anger. That was alright though- more time for him to get a presentable look for work- and to run the introductory lesson for the first day through his mind once more.

            What tie should he wear? What color of terribly thin long sleeved button up shirt should go below that tie? Khaki pants or brown pants? There was so much work to do! First, however, he’d need to shower and pop a bagel in the toaster. An eventful morning it would be.

            As soon as Samuel was well dressed in appropriate clothes, he pulled a bagel out of the pantry.  He figured that he didn’t need to waste time cooking it, and that cream cheese would suffice. With a bagel in one hand and work materials in another, he left the house, ready to seize the day.

            The earlier the buses, the better it was to ride.  There were generally always fewer people on the buses, and nobody ever wanted to talk to each other because they _all_ hated mornings.  As soon as the bus came to a stop and Samuel was picked up, he felt particularly relaxed. Bagels taste nice when you’re relaxed. He had enough room to actually sit in a seat, too, which was fantastic. As soon as he sat down, the bus started moving again, stopping at different points and intersections, making way for the place nearest the school.

            However, all good things must come to an end.

            The bus stopped near a little apartment building right next to a market. Those tinted glass doors opened, and on walked two people, one of them being Samuel’s main reason for hating his current situation-George. It couldn’t be- Was this guy going to have to invade his before-work time as well? It seemed that George decided he was going to sit near Samuel today, or at least, a seat ahead of him. Samuel sighed, and tried to ignore his presence.

            “Good morning Sammy,” George said, happy as can be. “How fun it is that we get to work together.”

            “Don’t call me Sammy,” Samuel retorted immediately, whipping his head around. “Don’t talk to me either. Just because we are coworkers does not mean we have to be friendly.”

            “Oh, but we do. That’s how I’ll keep my job, now isn’t it?” George laughed, reaching over to pat Samuel on the head. Samuel smacked his hand away.

            “Don’t even think about it. And don’t pretend that you’re better than me, I have much more experience than you.”

            “Well, I’m about to be better than you at another thing- teaching a class. It’s funny, isn’t it? The fact that you think so high and mighty of yourself, yet you worry that I am better than you. Could you be any more ridiculous? It’s insulting, if I’m completely honest with you.”

            “Psh,” Samuel looked away, not sure what he was trying to hide. “The only thing I’m worried about is whether or not I’m going to destroy you AND your freshman class by the end of the year. Don’t test me.” He looked at George, glaring intensely. “And I don’t fight during school hours, by the way. Bad influence on the children. Don’t get too excited, Georgie.”

            “Suck in your pride, Sammy. You don’t even know when to use an oxford comma.” George tapped his own head. “Use your brain, mister American man.”

            “Don’t talk to me like I’m some dumb child, you dick.”

            “Oh, don’t you mean ‘I’m dumb, comma, a child, comma, and a dick?’” He laughed quietly, and looked back the other way. Samuel could have thought of a comeback, but it was a bit too late.

            As soon as the bus had gotten to the closest stop to the school, Samuel pushed in front before George could stand, and left the bus immediately. This was done partially out of pure spite, and partially just because he didn’t want to have to be next to him as they walked.

            Samuel mad his way in the back door first, not caring to lock the door behind him, considering George was just behind. He was met by Angelica, who, in all respects, was much too much more excited than he. She spoke cheerfully, which scared him a little.

            “Samuel, I’m so excited,” she said, grabbing Samuel’s work materials. “Every single one of the new teachers were so prepared for the job, it was very exciting to see everybody there with their best professional attitudes.”

            “Angelica,” Samuel said, putting his index finger over her mouth to hush her, “please, don’t. Not this morning.”

            “Oh Samuel,” Angelica replied, “why are you so cranky this morning? I thought day one was your favorite day!”

            “Yeah, but not necessarily when I have to deal with him-“ Samuel pointed down the hall, where George was already walking to his classroom. George noticed he was being pointed to and waved.

            “So, you really hate him then, Samuel?”

            “Well I don’t _hate_ him per se…” Samuel stated, rubbing his temples, “I could live without him, is all. He always argues with me, even when I’m just trying to have a regular conversation. I’ve only had a few conversations where I _didn’t_ argue. Call it tough luck or whatever, but I think the guy just doesn’t like me.”

            “So, you’ve tried being friendly, and it doesn’t work? Is that what you mean?”

            “Yeah, basically, and because of the horrid rules of this facility that we call a school building, I have to deal with him for 180 days this year.” Samuel smiled sarcastically. “Don’t mind me; I’m just going to be drinking my cares away.” He began to walk toward his classroom to prepare for the incoming students, who would be filling the halls any minute.

            “Hey!” Angelica called back to him. “Maybe he just wants to be your friend, Samuel! He seemed to think of you as a friend yesterday!” Angelica waved. Samuel stuck out his tongue, and opened his classroom.

            Samuel began to clean his classroom. The room was already clean, however, he was excited, and when Samuel is excited, he does things excessively. He wiped down each desk at least ten times, windexed the windows twice, and organized his own work-space in three different ways.

            After about an hour of frantic cleaning, a knock was heard at the door. ‘ _Finally,’_ he thought, ‘ _about time an actual student came over.’_ Samuel yelled for whoever it was to come in, and to his obviously ill-fated luck, it was not who he wanted it to be. At all.

            “Alexander,” Samuel said, not taking his eyes off of one little spot that he seemed to keep missing in his cleaning endeavor.

            “Mister Seabury. I can’t believe that George, _the_ George that you never shut up about is moving right across from you.”

            “Well, the one thing we can agree on is that we cannot stand you, Alexander.” Samuel put down his rag for a split second to say that, but continued looking away from his coworker.

            “Why do you do that?” Alexander pried, now stepping behind Samuel’s desk. “What you just did, why do you do that?”

            “Do what?” Samuel noticed a student walking down the hallway, and realized the time. “Ah, never mind, Mr. Hamilton. I’ll speak with you later. Right now I need to pretend that I barely know you. Class start at six, wouldn’t want to be late.” Alexander huffed and left the room, leaving Samuel just enough time to set up his PowerPoint. As soon as the door closed, it opened right back up again.

”Sammy, I’m in need of immediate assistance.” Now in the doorway was the third person who actually wanted to talk to Samuel, and it was another person whom he did not care for.

“Don’t call me that, George,” Samuel said, standing up straight and facing toward the door. “And ask somebody else to help you. Alexander just walked past you a moment ago. He’s probably better than me at it anyway.”

“Oh but, who better to ask than a friend of mine?” George dropped a roll of tape onto the floor as he said this, and looked at Samuel, expecting him to retrieve it.

“Yeah alright, I’ll pick it up. What the hell do you need me for, George? Remember, our classes are starting soon.”

“Oh, you’ll help me? Fantastic! Okay, so, come into my classroom.” George held the door open, and Samuel sighed and walked out. It was hotter out of his room than it was in his room. George’s room was freezing, though, and smelled like lavender and chamomile, a strange mixture.

“It smells nice in here, but why is it so damn cold?” Samuel asked.

“I’m just used to colder climates, is all. It’s rather… warm here.”George set down his materials.

“We live in New York. There’s not much that can top our winters, except maybe Montana or Alaska or something. Also, you have been here since you were in college. It wasn’t that long ago, George.”

“I never really got used to warm weather- not here, at least.”

“For the last time, it’s not even warm here. It’s the beginning of September.” Samuel rubbed his temples. “What was it that you needed, anyway?”

“Sorry. I just get so caught up in our _lovely_ conversations that I forget what I’m doing. Please post these posters on the wall for me.” George pointed to a pile of different sized laminated papers on a desk in the far back of the room. “You can post them wherever you like that is not on anything that’s already on the walls. Oh! And don’t knock over anything on shelves, thank you. Very valuable items, indeed. You can’t replace some of them, I’m afraid. So just be careful.”

“Why can’t you do it yourself?” Samuel shook his head and huffed, grabbing some posters off of the desk. “Fine, but just for today.”

“Oh thank you _so_ much, my friend. Don’t worry; I’ll help- right after I’m done with my other work.”

“Don’t taunt me.”

It was officially going to be the longest year of Samuel’s damn life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm having both of these up on the same day, just to see how it goes.   
> Oh! And I'm always open to comments. I love people who comment nice things or advice, or their thoughts about the chapter.  
> However, I don't like it when people try to tell me what to write/how to write my works. I won't get angry and lash out, but I don't appreciate it.   
> Thank you!


	3. Don't be Deceived by my Tone of Voice

            In no interval of his life did Samuel ever think he was going to have to deal daily with a person who was such a _damn piece of work._ Even after finishing the silly task that George had had him complete earlier, (which could have taken five minutes or less, if George hadn’t talked his ear off the whole time he was working) George decided to stay by the doorway and babble on about medieval English royalty, among other things that Samuel didn’t care about. Finally though, after sitting in rococo hell for about fifteen minutes, he made his way back to his own room, where his class would arrive in just a few minutes.

             Some students were already planted in their seats, chattering to each other about the summer heat and such, speaking loudly like high school children often do. Samuel didn’t mind noise much- at least, not at the beginning of the class time when he was still waiting for the sound of the bell to begin the most exciting day of the year- for him, anyway.

            As soon as the first bell rang, Samuel pulled up the PowerPoint slideshow about course expectations up on his computer, and blew it up on the big projector screen toward the front of the room. It was only a matter of time before ten, twenty, thirty students piled into the room, some in pairs with their friends and some by themselves. George’s classroom was filling up, too, which hopefully meant that he wouldn’t have to be bothered during the day. And even better- Samuel’s breaktime was at a different time than George’s, meaning that they would not need to see each other then either. It’s pure bliss.

            The second bell rang as two students rushed in. Samuel was already ready for everything- he had his laser pointer for the slideshow out and everything. He closed the door and made his way to the front of the students, who were mostly chatting loudly. Samuel tried to hush the classroom for a few minutes, and as soon as they were quiet, he pulled out a marker to begin. On the whiteboard next to the projector screen was, in neat, cursive letters, “Mr. Seabury.”

            “Good morning, everybody,” he started cheerfully, “I’m Mr. Seabury. I’m your sophomore year homeroom teacher and, for some of you, English 10 honors teacher as well. I look forward to teaching this year. I’m going to take role call and explain some of the rules, so if I mess up your name or you prefer to go by another name, please tell me and I’ll change it in my role call sheet.”

            After all of the names were called and the rules were stated, (no gum under the desks, keep a reasonable volume, try not to kill each other- the standard stuff) he had two students pass back papers with homeroom class expectations and copies of the rules.

            “Oh, and one last thing.” Samuel pulled out a small binder filled with multi-colored papers, and flipped to the second page. “Most of you were here last year so you probably already know about ‘Homeroom class competitive games.’ For those of you who don’t know, the HCCGs are a list of random homeroom vs. homeroom competitions- school donations and food drives and such- that add up points at the end of the year. All English homerooms versus all math homerooms, science homerooms, fine art homerooms, and etcetera. First place in the activities get five points, second place gets three, and third place gets one. Mr. Hamilton down the hall and I are both _very_ competitive, so I encourage you to participate.”

            A short kid with long, curly hair piped up from the back of the room, hand raised high, well before Samuel had asked if there were any questions. He called on the kid anyway.

            “Yes, you have a question,” he looked down his grade sheet for the picture that looked most similar to the kid, “Ah, Margarita Schuyler?”

            “It’s Peggy, and before you ask, I _am_ related to Angelica. Siblings.” Peggy took a deep breath. “Where was I going with this… oh yeah! Do the overall winners get something as a prize? Like a pizza party or whatever?” The rest of the class began to chatter again.

            “Quiet down, quiet down,” Samuel said, flipping the page. “The first place homerooms are the only ones who get the overall prize, and the activity is different every year. Last year we had enough funds for everyone to skip a day for a movie. I think this year, we’re planning on going to one of those big roller skating-slash-arcade places, but I’m not positive. Good question, Peggy. Any others?”

            Before anybody could ask, however, the first period bell rang for homeroom to be over. ‘ _Twenty minutes before cores and electives isn’t nearly enough time,’_ Samuel thought, as all of his students piled out of the classroom. “Have a good first day!” He shouted toward them.

            As the crowd cleared away, other students with pieces of paper in their hands that dictated classroom numbers came into the room; more students than not asked Samuel if he was “ _Mr. Seabarry_.” A common mispronunciation, he supposed.

            Class by class, he introduced himself and the course expectations and all of the other important items. Samuel found the first day to be the most relaxing, based on the fact that there was no stress of grading work (aside from checking off the students who had their course expectations signed.)

            Fifth period came along- He had done this all day. Lunch and then sixth period would be for free time, and seventh was his last class of the day. Then, he was home free.

            The second bell rang, and after a pile of very lost students finally arrived into the classroom, Samuel began his course expectations and materials needed speech and all- the whole spiel. Once he had finished any final questions and given them the papers to pass out, the classroom was again filled with indistinct talking and laughter.

            In the midst of all of the students and their talking, Samuel heard a knock at the door. He assumed it was just a late student or something, and had another student open the door. Samuel did not look up from his grade sheet.

            “Come in, tell me your name and student number please and then get seated.”He signaled for them to come forth, still not looking up from the grade sheet.

            “Well let’s see, George, and I’m not a student,” a voice was heard, and Samuel sighed, finally looking up from his grade sheet with a dull expression.

            “What are you doing in my classroom, George?” Samuel scratched the back of his head as he got up.

            “It’s my break. I got bored. Wanted to see what you were up to.” George sat down in an idle chair at the front of the room, closest to Samuel’s desk. “It seems fun to be teaching such a… lively group of students.”

            Samuel stretched. “I never gave you permission to come into this classroom, Mr. Frederick, so please just get on with what you have to do.”

            “I’m not here for anything in particular Sammy,” George said, moving his chair over to Samuel’s desk and laying his elbows to rest there. “Like I said, I just got bored and decided to come over. You have a horrible decorating sense, though, I must say. If it weren’t my break time I’d do some lovely re-decorating for you.”

            “It’s fine. It looks good.” Samuel became irritated. “It’s a perfectly sensible looking room with enough posters and decorations for it not to be _too much._ Unlike _somebody.”_

            George pulled his elbows off of the desk. “My room isn’t _too much._ If anything, yours is too little. It’s like you barely put any effort into it.”

            “Your room looks like King Louis XVI’s clothes threw up on your wall.”

            “Yours looks like it was done by a ten-year-old in a span of six minutes.”

            “George,” Samuel raised his voice, “I swear to god, get the h-“

            “Ah ah ah,” George said, pointing his index finger toward the air, “none of that. Wouldn’t want the children hearing such profanities.”

            Samuel cleared his throat and flashed a fake grin. “You don’t need to be here!” he said through gritted teeth.

            “Oh, but I do _love_ the talks we have. Your class seems very loud, but it’s not nearly as bad as my third period. I swear, they never shut up.”

            “ _Almost like you,”_ Samuel said, under his breath.

            “And the worst part of it is,” George paused his sentence, “I can’t do anything to shut them up! They’re always this loud. Are Abraham high school students normally like this?”

            “I guess so.” Samuel looked at the front of the room and noticed two students staring and pointing toward the front of the room- one was Peggy from earlier, and the other a girl whom he had forgotten the name of. It didn’t matter, because they seemed very interested in whatever was happening with the teachers in the front of the room. George seemed to ignore them, but Samuel was wary, so he decided to loosen up his attitude. “I was not planning on seeing you here today during your break. I know that you like to bother me, but it gets boring at some point, doesn’t it?”

            “I suppose it may get boring for _you_.” George picked up a pencil from Samuel’s desk, rolling it in between two fingers. “However, I find talking to you very interesting. We have a lot in common, Sammy!”

            The lunch bell rang for lunch, and the classroom immediately tried to exit the classroom at once. It was like a stampede. George too, smiled and left the room without another word, leaving Samuel in his own pit of confusion.

            ‘ _What is he thinking, a lot in common? Not in the slightest.”_

            A few hours later, school was out, and Samuel headed home on the bus, this time alone. His apartment was as clean and empty as it always was when he left and came home. It would be a relaxing day at home, right after he called Hamilton for all of the teacher’s meeting information. He decided to do that later, maybe after some reading or writing. He grabbed his laptop and began typing. For some reason, his mind was working better, and he had the potential to get so much done. Word after word, page after page.

            Seconds turned to minutes, and minutes turned into hours and so forth. Soon enough, it was nine o’ clock at night, way past the time when he should have called Hamilton. He was reminded that it was nine because his phone went off, ironically enough, and it was the exact person whom of which he wanted to speak with. Samuel picked up the phone, already ready for Hamilton to scold him, armed with a witty comeback planned out in the corner of his mind. It’s good to be prepared.

            “Seabury, I called everybody else about the meeting,” Hamilton said, “I guess that it’s going to be after school instead of before, so you won’t have to get up extra early.”

Samuel snickered. “What, no insults this time? What is going on today? First George, then you. It’s been weird.”

“Listen, I don’t have time for you to talk about having no friends or what the hell ever because _trust_ _me_ , I get it. I wouldn’t want to be your friend either. However, it’s nine at night and I already know I’m going to be up for another four hours writing my pre-tests for AP, so please, no more conversation. Let’s just talk about the meeting. None of this ‘I-want-to-punch-George’s face shit, not today. ”

            “And there it is! My favorite part of our calls. Not to worry Alexander, I may not have friends, but George and I would gladly punch you instead of each other.”

 

            “Oh my god, are you sure you’re an adult? Because you sure do remind me of a teenage boy. And why do you do _that?_ That weird thing you do, you’re doing it again. _”_

            “Do what, Alexander?” Samuel asked, glaring a little.

            “That thing, you know!  You’re always talking about how terrible George is, yet when it comes down to it, you _can agree_ on the fact that you both hate me!”

            “Who doesn’t?”

            A sigh could be heard on the other end of the phone. “You know what, I’m just going to start on the assignment I need to do. I’ll send you the teacher meeting e-mail. Please never speak to me again, I swear. These are the worst conversations of my life.”He hung up.

            Since that was over, Samuel decided to close his writing up, and finish his thoughts before bed. Good thing _he_ wouldn’t have to stay up until one o’ clock.

            “ _On the other hand, it’s good to have something to fight about, and something to agree on with your rival.”_

            Samuel closed his computer, and began to dress himself for bed. A long year was ahead of him, with a lot of new things for him to complain about and be excited about. Lots of new people to meet and not become friends with, lots of good food to eat. It would be an exciting year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm definitely going to be making this something to work on over the summer. I enjoy writing this because it's helping me polish up my writing skills, so I'm pretty content. Also, coincidentally, I post this on the same day as Mr. Thayne Jasperson's birthday! So happy day of birth to him.  
> Well, I'll be back with another chapter sometime next week, but I always love chatting with everyone!  
> (Sorta disclaimer I guess, there will be no graphic smut. I am not particularly comfortable with writing it, so if that's what you were looking for, I can't provide that.)  
> (Also, yes! Peggy will be a student. The ages are a little weirdly made to fit the premise, but then again, there really is no set age for the canon characters, besides young and older.)  
> Thank you all so much for reading.


	4. For Some Reason, I've Decided to Work with it

            “Alright class, turn to the fifteenth page of your red- not blue, red English textbook.”

            A week had passed since the first day of school, and fifth period was, so far, Samuel’s most intriguing class. There was always a rowdy group of students in every class and so far, that seemed to be most of the entire fifth period. A little group of sweet introverts kept to themselves, but the rest of them were very loud and had many questions- and it was only the second Monday of the school year! Although, strangely, the students in his fifth period class were receiving the most positive marks on their work, and asked the most intelligent questions of all of his classes.

            Along with a group of very loud, but intellectual students was _him._ George liked to peek in, swirl around in the swivel chair near the teachers desk while Samuel was busy teaching, and spew out random facts while the students were doing pair work. It was exhausting, but Samuel had kind of gotten used to it. It was almost like a routine- go through the first four classes, deal with the loud fifth period students maturely, listen to George ramble on about medieval royalty or something else, listen to the insults, and then go through the last part of the day.

            However, now, the class was working on the second chapter of the first unit, and had to fill out some questions- the normal stuff. Samuel, who was quietly working on his own in the back of the room, was monitoring the students from time to time, making sure that they weren’t dying or hurting each other. Around this time, too, George would peek into the classroom and try to talk to Samuel about something- it was almost always the same thing.

            “Morning, Sammy,” George said, already at the back of the room. Before he could say anything else, Samuel interjected.

            “You dressed absolutely ridiculous today,” Samuel said, not even looking up from his pile of worksheets in the back of the classroom. “Do you buy your clothes from a store for prepubescent boys? Plaid shorts, really?”

            “Oh shut up, you’re beginning to sound like me.” George sat at an empty desk near Samuel. “Okay, listen, I know that we have these school-wide competitive events…”

            Samuel looked up from his work, actually quite interested, and faced George. “Go on.”

            “You know how we’re supposed to start collecting donations for the first thing, you know, the school donations-“

            “Annual Fall donation bin?”

            “Yes, that! Well, if you didn’t already know, I am quite competitive.”

            “I’m aware, and I’m also the same way. Why is that important?”

            “Yes, and you probably don’t already know this, but my homeroom class is mostly student council and other socialites…”

            “Alright, get to the point.”

            “I think that it would be in both of our utmost interests to make a sort of alliance.”

            Samuel glared. “Excuse me?”

            “You know, an alliance. Let’s work together!”

            “No way.” Samuel said, chuckling a little. “Not with you, never. How would that even work, George? Because from what I’m aware of, we’re already working on the same thing, for the same cause. You know, since we are _both from the English department.”_ Samuel began to look at his paper again.

            “No, Samuel, what I mean is, maybe it would be a good idea to work together _within_ the English department. You know, like we could have class incentives for doing things- except we could pay for them together. Promise class parties if both of our classes come in first or second place, together we can come up with different ways to coerce the classes to participate. I know for a fact that very few students participate unless there is some sort of short-term prize.”

            “So what you’re saying is,” Samuel started, rubbing his temples, “that we should cheat?”

            “It’s not _cheating,”_ George said, looking in the air to think of  some sort of explanation, “it’s just, a little bit of help that we’re giving ourselves. Besides, we’re using our own money and if we help each other pay for it, it won’t be as expensive.”

            “We could get in serious trouble.”

            “No, we couldn’t- not if we don’t use the school’s money.”

            “Okay, and what makes you think that I would do this with you, of all people?”

“Well let’s see- I know for a fact you have about the amount of friends that I do, which is zero, Angelica doesn’t give a damn about the school contests, Alexander hates us more than water hates oil, and I teach across the hall from you. What more do you need to know?”

            “We only have twenty minutes of homeroom.”

            “And an hour of lunchtime!”

            The bell rang. Students started closing their books and leaving the classroom, already ready for lunch. Samuel said his normal “Have a good day!” at them, and looked back at George.

            There were good things and bad things to think about with this- The bad being that he couldn’t stand George and the fact that it could be risky, and the good being pretty much everything else. He did need to figure out his answer soon, because he was staring. Pretty intensely too.

            “Hello?” George waved a hand in front of Samuel’s face. “What, admiring my godlike features?” He smirked

            “Yes.” Samuel said, before realizing his timing and shaking his head. “I mean no, to the last thing, but yes to the other thing…” He shook his head again. “No to the thing about your face, yes to the alliance.”

            “Alright, if there’s no further questions, let’s shake on it.”George smiled and stared at Samuel, who was hesitant to make the deal. Nonetheless, he complied.

            Samuel held his hand out. “It’s a deal then.”

            George, looking Samuel straight in the eye, shook his hand, and said firmly, “Deal.”

            And it was done.

            That evening, Samuel was at home, waiting for an e-mail from George that stated what their first plan of action would be- the first day of donations. He sat by his computer on his work e-mail, refreshing the screen every so often to check for what he needed. It was taking a while, too, as George has not shown at all to be a punctual person.

            While the wait was on, Samuel felt a buzz in his pocket. He pulled his phone out, and saw on the screen in big white letters “Charles Lee.” He answered the phone, finally leaving his computer desk for a change.

            “Charles?” Seabury questioned.

            “Samuel! Okay, before I talk your ear off about what happened at the company today, how was your day?”

            “Horrid. Don’t even ask. What happened at the company?”

            “Okay, so, we were doing a shoot for the local magazine, as always. But the guy who I was modeling with tripped over the set- six times! Like, how many times do you gotta mess up before you can get fired?”

            “You’re telling me.” Samuel switched his phone to the other ear and walked over to the kitchen. “Did he ever get fired?”

            “No!” Samuel could hear a sigh on the other line. “Boss said that it was just his first day, and not to worry about it. What a good impression he made.”

            “So many interesting things happen at the modeling company. I wish I worked somewhere like that. That won’t happen, though. I’m too unattractive, even with Photoshop. Not that I care, but god is it tiring to work as a teacher.”

            “What, are kids this year especially bad?”

            “No, it’s worse. I never would have thought that it would come to this, but guess who works across the hall from me now?”

            “Who?”

            “Hint- he’s blonde, and a huge asshole.”

            “You mean, you actually work with George? As in, he is your coworker now? Oh god, I’m so sorry.”

            “And that’s not the worst part. We have to work together on a project, and god if I’m not already tired of him.”

            They talked for a while, going back and forth about memories and work and such, getting so interested in themselves that it was late before they knew it.

            “And then, he told me that I had a terrible decoration sense!”  Samuel, who was quietly sitting in the corner of the room with his phone and a bag of chips, heard a knock at the door. “Sorry Charles, somebody has decided to-“ He heard a knock again. “I’m coming! Sorry Charles, I gotta go, talk to you later.”

            “Bye.”

            As soon as Samuel hung up the phone, the door slammed open. Samuel was still in the corner of the room and already looking a mess. His heart jumped from his chest. _A robber._ He dropped his bag of chips and headed straight for the cabinet above the sink, and grabbed a pan out and neared the back of the room.

            “Sammy, you took too long to answer the door- oh my!”

            Samuel, who was holding the pan high above his head, screamed, “ _How did you get here! Why are you here!”_

            ”Relax Samuel. I just realized that I could come over at any time- your address was in the school book with all of the names of the teachers listed. For mailing purposes, most likely, but I was intrigued as to what your place looked like and it’s not that bad, if I do say so myself.”

            “So you barge in? Please don’t ever do that again. I was scared half to death!”

            “Sorry Sammy, I needed to be here quickly and you weren’t opening the door.”

            “You could have just e-mailed me about the class thing. It’s not even that import-“

            “I got bored, you were taking too long, and I came inside. Got it? Thanks.” His tone was more aggressive this time, isolate from his normal bickering voice. He seemed upset about something, but Samuel kept to himself, and locked the door behind them.

            “Come in then, let’s talk about the alliance or whatever, shall we? I’ve not got all day, but I have been waiting for your e-mail.” Samuel paused for a second while George seated himself. “Oh, would you like some water or something? I think I have some t-“

            “No, that’s quite alright. In fact I’m just trying to figure out what we should do. As allies, I mean.” George pulled a slip of paper from his pocket. “I’ve already gotten some ideas, I just need some input.

            Samuel noticed him changing the subject and decided to ignore it. It was probably personal anyway. “Well, I don’t think we can really do much. Except maybe give them all a specific prize, or something. For if they win first place in this fundraiser.” He stood up and walked back over by his computer desk, and retrieved a binder from under it. “In here, I might find some gift cards, coupons, things like that. It’s basically a bunch of store-cash stuff I thought I’d find useful.”

            “Alright, and none of it is expired?” George opened the binder, a few stray papers slipped out and onto the table.

            “Some of it might be, but I change stuff out at the beginning of the year, and the gift cards work for a very long time. It should be alright, mostly at least.” Samuel pulled out about five gift cards from the pocket in the binder. “I can’t believe you’re in my house right now, working with me. It’s annoying, to be honest.”

            “Is it really?” George pulled out a twenty dollar gift card to a place called “Sophie’s Cold and Cream” that Samuel knew was down the street. “Hey, what about this? I’ve heard Sophie’s is pretty popular.”

            “Are you suggesting an ice cream party of some sort?”

            “That might not be bad. It’d be a good idea right? There’s twenty dollars in there, and we could probably buy more stuff if I used my own money as well.” George looked for some sort of expiration date. “How did you get twenty dollars worth of ice cream, anyways?”

            “Teacher of the month award. I was nominated.” Samuel smirked and looked at George. “Maybe you’ll get an award like that George, it’d be surprising to me.” He looked at the clock, which read near eleven o’ clock PM, and sighed. “You should be getting back home, it’s late.”

            “Oh, yes,” George said, hurriedly standing up. He cleared his throat. “I suppose you’re right. Please excuse me.” With that, George unlocked and opened the door, and waved goodbye before leaving the apartment. Strangely enough, he had nothing to say to Samuel’s request for him to leave. But that didn’t matter. It was _eleven._ Tomorrow would be another Tuesday with almost no sleep.

            The next morning at school, Samuel was as tired as could be. He did remember to take his ice cream gift card to the class, which would be proof of his intentions. The bell rang, and he started on his spiel.

            “Alright, today is the first donation day for the Fall Annual Donation bin. Now, Mr. Frederick across the hall and I have decided we are going to work together in this. We’ll still get the big prize if we win the school-wide contest, and between me, this class, and Mr. Fredericks class, I’ll be providing special incentives for if our classes both win from first, second, or third place. For this donation drive, we’ll be doing an ice cream social type thing, so I do hope that you’ll be motivated to participate.”

            Samuel could hear a bit of commotion starting in the classroom. He hushed them, and asked if anybody had brought donations yet. Everybody declined, so Samuel allowed them to talk again. He sat at his desk, and let himself doze off a bit. It was rather peaceful for a second. The bell would wake him up anyway.

            Right when he was settled down and somebody walked up to his desk. They tapped on the desk, and Samuel jolted up.

            “What? Oh god, sorry. Fell asleep for a bit there.” He looked up. It was Peggy, who had always been a very chatty kid. “What’s the matter?”

            Peggy put on their most serious face, and spoke. “May I ask you a question?”

            “Yes, you may.”

            “You see, I had a bet with my friends. So don’t be weirded-out or anything but,” They giggled a little, “are you and Mr. Frederick married?”

            Samuel glared and cringed a little, and was rather surprised. “No, what would make you think that?”

            “Well, you act a lot like you are. And when he comes in here, he calls you Sammy, which from what I know, is neither your first or your last name.”

            “Why would you say that?” He sat up in his chair uncomfortably, and took a deep breath. Why would anybody believe that? _How_ could anybody believe that? They didn’t even _like_ each other! They were barely acquaintances!  Just because George comes to visit him often and decides to see him every fifth period and calls him by that silly pet-name and-

            “No, we aren’t. That was a strange question, Peggy.”

            “Dammit. I thought for sure you were. Guess I lost.” They shrugged, and went back to the back of the classroom.

            Samuel. _Married._ And to George, of all people. That would be a thing to feel grossed out about for the rest of the day, that’s for sure.

            Well, they have been acting relatively strangely lately, for sworn enemies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God, this turned out to be a bit longer than I expected. Also, it's mediocre, so hopefully I'll be able to buckle down and fix up the weird stuff in the next chapter. Nonetheless, thank you for reading.  
> I'd also like to say a quick thank you to the lovely people who have been commenting things. It actually means a lot!  
> I have been asking myself lately: why a teacher AU? It's your break time, Lexi!  
> I came to the conclusion that I actually really miss attending classes. I can't help it! I'm weak. Coincidentally, English has always been my favorite subject, aside from US/World history.  
> Okay, well, all that weird and unnecessary info aside, see you next time, friends!


	5. I Suppose I Will Open the Curtains

          “Oh, and Charles! I haven’t even gotten to the worst part. One of my students thought that we were _married._ Asked me if I was earlier today! _”_ Samuel looked at his clock. “Ah, it’s getting late. I should probably sleep at least a little.”

            “You must have a busy day ahead of you, being married and all.”

            “Shut up.”

            Morning came, and damn was it good to feel some sunlight. Samuel had been anxious all night, and it wasn’t for any particular reason, which only made him more anxious. A light breakfast and bus ride to school, and he was on his way to the almost-home-away-from-home. It was just the beginning of the year.

            Samuel opened his classroom. Desks were neatly cleaned and the floor vacuumed- thank you janitors for getting that squared away. The white board was cleaned off from yesterday after the final bell. He began writing his homeroom plans and then English lessons, making sure that all important facts were stated, and that it looked neat and pretty. Samuel had a thing for pretty writing.

            Angelica peered into the classroom. This was apparently a typical thing in the current year. It was strange, too, because the most logical, organized, level-headed teacher in possibly the entire school was asking him- _Samuel Seabury,_ the elite opposite of that description- for help. Every. Single. Day.

            “Do you need more papers again?” Samuel walked over to the front door.

            “Yes,” She sighed. “I’m so sorry that I keep asking this. I know, I’m a mess this year, but it’s not as easy running a class when the students are little pricks.”

            “You’re tellin’ me. Well, actually, my students are mostly okay. Just loud. Your sibling, Peggy, is a real hoot. Lots of potential in that kid.”

            “It’s actually hilarious. Peggy begged the school _not_ to be put in my class. When the school put Peggs in your class, my whole family was ‘relieved.’ Even Eliza! She never says anything bad about anyone! I guess Peggy is tired of seeing me boss everyone around.”

            “Well, either way, here are your papers.” He handed her a stack of pink sheets. “Also, prepare yourself Angelica, I’m gonna be destroying your class in the homeroom games. I have a secret plan.”

            “What, are you gonna cheat?” Angelica smirked and chuckled. “I actually wouldn’t be surprised.”

            “No, I’ve actually formed a sort of alliance. With my enemy, of all people, but I think it’ll be worth it.”

            “I’d hardly call him your enemy anymore, Samuel. He’s talked to you every day since school started, and now he’s actively participating with you on something. If anything, he’s a puppy- running around you, interested in most everything that you do. And you’re his owner, and he’s turning you from cat- lover to dog-lover.”

“What the hell does that even mean?”

“Never mind. The question is, how could you let this happen to you? You’re crazy!” Angelica held the door open with her heel, and looked at Samuel questioningly.

            “I’ve got my reasons. Plus, together, we could destroy the others, especially ugly old Mr. Burr and Mr. Jefferson from math department A. It’ll be great, just you wait.”

            “Why do you care so much.” Angelica raised an eyebrow. “It’s literally just a game… a competition.”  

            Samuel looked at her with an utmost serious expression. He stared dead into her eyes, and intoned, “I am here to win.”

            “Okay…” Angelica stepped backwards. “Well, in that case, I’ll just… leave.” With that, and Samuel’s slightly unnerving response, Angelica stepped out. The day started off rather beautifully.

            Students began coming into the classroom soon, which meant that the bell would ring shortly. Some of kids had already started bringing money into the class and placed it into the jar by Samuel’s desk. Three had brought a handful of coins, while others brought bills. Either way, he knew he’d have to count it, which would be the _worst._

            The first bell rang, and many, many students entered the room. More people went the donation jar, too, which was a lovely sight to see. Samuel was rather anxious when it came to contests. He didn’t care what the contest was about or what its prize was. All he really cared about was the outcome, and that outcome was to be on top.

            When the second bell rang, students started sitting in their seats. Homeroom would be pretty relaxed. Samuel said his normal stuff, asking about the donation bin, and so on.

            While the class was busy chatting, Samuel began to count the coins and money. So far, he had gotten $32.60, which was a good start. He left the classroom and went to George’s to spread the good news, and see how he was doing. However, when he entered the class, he was greeted by a crowd of terribly talkative students and an equally talkative teacher. The class and George were talking about something, although it was not easy to tell what that might be.

            When George noticed Samuel inside the classroom, he smiled. “Ah, speak of the devil, there he is! And let me tell you, that was _not_ the last time he cried around me.”

            Samuel forgot what he went in there for for a moment, and inquired, “What are you talking about, Georgie?”

            “Don’t you remember that time that you cried for twenty minutes in college, because you thought you had deleted nine pages of work forever, when really you just cut it from the document like you were supposed to?” The class started laughing.

            Samuel, who was slightly embarrassed, remembered something and retorted, “That doesn’t beat the time that _you,_ Mr. Frederick, deleted your entire paper on ‘How Historians Study History” on accident, and out of embarrassment, had to get your billionaire father to pay somebody to sign a fake hospital paper to get out of turning it in on time. Yeah, I know that that happened, Sir.”

            The class began laughing again, and this time they were much louder and much more excited. One kid in the back of the classroom screamed “He got you, Mr. F!” Another fell on the floor.

            George wiped the smile off of his face. For Samuel, there was nothing better than to see George’s discomfort and embarrassment after that statement.

            George straightened his back and turned away. “What do you need from me, Samuel? I haven’t got all day.”

            Samuel was still laughing a little. “Actually, yes. I wanted to see if you had collected any money, and how much.

            “$40.56. You?”

            “Yeah yeah, I got some. Just checking in. Oh by the way, I have a package to drop off at your place. It’s at home because I brought it there on accident, and I was supposed to give it to you in class, but I didn’t want to take it here and then leave it on the bus on the way home or something so… Just be aware that I will be dropping something on your doorstep later. “ With that, Samuel left the loud room, and hopped over to his own, ready to continue the day with a skip in his step.

            By the time that Samuel left the school and got home, it was pretty cloudy. The air was chilly, but the sky looked quite pretty. He liked the beginning-of-autumn sky. Samuel found the package he wanted to deliver, and tried to find George’s Apartment number. A walk through that weather would be nice.

            Samuel had trouble finding his way. He first got distracted by the clouds. By the time he realized he had gone too far back, he was in a whole other place, and had no idea where he was. He then looked at the slip of paper with the apartment number, and realized that he wasn’t even on the correct floor, so he had to climb the stairs to the correct one. Finally, he found the place, with a little sign on the door that said “King’s living quarters” in fancy red letters. Samuel rolled his eyes, and set down the package.

            He started on his way back, when the door opened. How _conveniently_ timed. Out walked a slightly disheveled George, who was dressed in summer sweats and a worn out t-shirt- very, very different from his normal attire.

            “Ah, Seabury. You’ve finally arrived. I’d been waiting. I was about to call you, but…” George held up his phone and shook it firmly. “My wi-fi has been acting up. For some reason, I can’t contact you indoors. Ah, but come inside, I have somebody I’d like you to meet, actually.”

            “Excuse me? No, I was just here to drop something off. You really don’t have to do this today.”

            “Oh why, do you have plans?” George grabbed the package off the floor. “I doubt it. Come on, this will be exciting. New friends are always exciting, right? Don’t be a grump.” George practically pulled Samuel inside his house, shutting the door behind them, and rushed back to the back of his room. Samuel was slightly uncomfortable, but it couldn’t be so bad. He’d meet this person and go back.

            George emerged from his room, with a _lovely_ surprise. “I’d like you to meet Charlemagne.” He pulled a large parrot off of his shoulder and held it on his index finger.

            Samuel jumped back. “What the hell is that _thing?”_  

            “He’s not a _thing,”_ George replied, “he’s a parrot, and he’s the best friend I have. Don’t worry, he doesn’t bite. Although, he may insult you. I taught him that. It may or may not have been for you personally.”

            “Put that thi-“ Samuel composed himself. “I mean, put _Champagne_ away, please, forever.”

            George set Charlemagne down on the arm of a revolving chair, and signaled for Samuel to take a seat. “It’s _Charlemagne;_ you know, the medieval king?”

            Samuel sat down on the couch furthest away from the bird.  “Same difference. I’ve never really paid much attention to that. By the way, what’s in the package?” He pointed to the package in George’s hands.

            “Ah.” George opened it, and pulled out a mug, wrapped carefully in paper and bubble wrap. He uncovered the mug, and it had a picture of a silver and gold flower etched on the front. “Ah, this is nice. I’ll set it on my gift shelf later, showcase it. It’s very pretty.

          “It’s certainly nice that you have a whole entire shelf dedicated to gifts that you’ve received from others.”

            “Yep. That way I can look at it and remind myself of how great I am, and how lovely it is to have material items.”

            “And there it is. The lovely ‘arrogant comment.’ You really haven’t changed since college, have you? Still full of yourself?”

            “Well, to be honest, I find that I have indeed changed. Not fully, of course, but nobody has changed completely. Not even you, Sammy.” George chuckled. “You’re still as immature as ever.”

            “I’m not! I-“ He paused himself, realizing his rising tone of voice, and sighed. “-am still very, very, _very_ immature.” He paused and reflected a bit. “Hm, I had honestly forgotten the story about the whole thing with the college paper. I can’t believe you, of all people, remember it.”

            “How could I not? You were sobbing into some random student’s arms.  I, on the other hand, didn’t forget the time that I committed a crime to complete that paper of mine. It worked and I’d do it again.” He laughed. “Starting college in the United States was probably a bad decision. I kind of wish I stayed.”

            “Why? I mean, it’s no London City, but it can be nice here as well.” Samuel looked at George curiously.

            He laughed a little. “Well for starters, I’d have gotten my hospital note faster.” His face became softer and more melancholy. “To be honest, though, I miss my old city. I miss angry old people yelling me for listening to rock music too loudly. I really liked that it was colder- I miss the weather. It’s a little sunnier here than I like.”

            Samuel frowned a little, and then remembered something. “Ah, but look out the window! It’s cloudy. I enjoy cloudy weather as well. I’d take a walk tonight, but I mostly want to relax at home. Also, if it makes you feel any better, I’m angry and I yell at you.”

            George laughed and shook his head. “A little, thank you.”

            Samuel smiled a bit and stood up. “I need to go home. I have people to call, food to eat. So don’t call me unless it’s an emergency!” Samuel made his way toward the door.

            “Ah, alright Samuel.” George stood up and stretched. “Hey, make sure to open your curtains while it’s still cloudy. Weather here is all over the place, you never know when it’s going to be sunny again. Open the curtains and savor this.”

            “Whatever. Goodbye, George.”

            Samuel made his way back to his own place, and sat at his computer desk by the window. There was so much to be done, so much writing to continue, so many papers to grade. It was silent, and it was dull. He had no problem with that, but it was missing something important.

            So, he opened the curtains.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I promise I have an excuse somewhere for being a whole /week/ late to update! Please insert one of the following: Writer's block, laziness, too busy, etc.  
> I'm sorry y'all. I'm super unorganized.  
> Also, I see that sometimes this website messes with my format a bit. It's a little irritating, and it deletes some of my tabs, so the indents are not shown. Well, the good thing about this website is that it's okay to be a little unprofessional! That's what I love about writing for fun.  
> Nonetheless, I hope you guys enjoyed. See you soon!  
> P.S. I would love to thank all of you who have been reading and commenting. It really really makes my day, and motivates me to continue. Thank you, you are appreciated so much!


	6. He is Emotional but that's OK

“Angelica, that’s not the best part. He had a _fucking parrot._ ”

“I still don’t fully understand why you continue to talk about him to me.”

Friday was the best. When the last day of the school week fully rolled in, everything was pretty easy. There was a grammar test that day, and a couple of kids turned in some late assignments, but other than that, the whole day was a piece of cake.

Angelica liked to peek into the rest of the classrooms, partially just to check and make sure everybody was alright, but mostly because she was often bored. Samuel was just right down the hall from her. He enjoyed the company slightly. Who else would he complain about his “arch nemesis” to?

“Angelica, I’m _trying_ to vent,” Samuel said, pushing a chair over to her. He looked over to the students, who were not-so-diligently working on a pair assignment, and then back to Angelica. “Just hear me out!”

“Fine,” She replied, “But you owe me grammar notes.”

“Good, now listen!” he said, “I’ve been going back and forth with this. I’ve had some pretty okay experiences with him, but I still get made fun of.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And as you know, I hate him, very, very much.”

“Yep.”

“So, I was thinking, maybe I’d go over and surprise him at _his_ house, see how he likes it! It would be the funniest thing. Let’s see him bring out a cooking pan like I did.”

“Oh boy.”

“Then I’d- Hey, are you even paying attention? I’m trying to talk to you. You haven’t said anything at all!” Samuel huffed.

Angelica rolled her eyes. “Samuel- You’ve just been continuously talking about going to his house. You’ve been talking about the weather being oh-so-lovely yesterday that you ‘didn’t mind’ going there. You have mentioned a goddamned parrot so many times that you sound like one yourself!”

“I’m just-“

She rubbed her forehead tensely. “God, Samuel, you have to do something for me. Go to that man, and sit down and _talk_ for at least ten minutes, please? I’m tired of hearing your sob stories, and quite frankly I have not heard anything from you to convince me that you can’t stand him.”

“What do you mean? I _only_ talk about that!” Samuel glared at her. The bell rang, and Angelica stood up quickly as the students poured out of the classroom.

“Samuel, if you couldn’t stand him- If you hated him so much that you got sick every time you saw him, you would _not_ be standing here, talking to me about it. You sound like a broken record. You’re like a teenager, talking about some girl that’s better than you in PE class. Except instead of that, it’s about a grown man who clearly has nothing better to do than try to befriend you. And we all know that that’s what he’s trying to do.” She started to walk out of the room, her heels making a piercing clack against the linoleum.

“Befriend me? That’s the last thing that he’s trying to do! I’ve never heard of a single person that makes fun of people to befriend him. There’s no way. You’re being stupid.”

Angelica stopped herself in the doorway, and turned her head around to the side. Her voice was harsh when she spoke. “I’m smarter than you, asshole. I’ve learned a lot more than you ever have. Don’t forget that.” And with that, she walked out of the room, kicking the door stopper behind her.

It’s true.

Samuel went about his day leisurely, as normal, grading papers in between lectures, dealing with George at period five, as usual. The weather was cloudy. Even when Samuel was riding home, he couldn’t help but wonder whether or not what Angelica had said was true. He _was_ particularly “immature,” yes, but was that really what was prohibiting him from having friend relationships?

No, that couldn’t be possible.

By the time that evening came around, cloudy weather turned to rain, and rain into a heavy storm. Storms were pretty common around that time of year anyway, so it didn’t surprise Samuel, but _damn it was heavy._  The rain pattered on the ceiling like nails, and thunder crashed furiously as the sky became etched with lightning.

Samuel loved the rain, but found it in his best interest to stay inside. After all, catching a cold so early in the school year would be mildly suspicious. He stayed indoors, but the thunder was still awfully loud and annoying. He could not work in conditions like this. It was too much stimulation for one task.

Instead, Samuel ran over to his kitchen and searched in the cupboards for snacks, and then for his television remote. No amount of thunder and lightning could drown the sound of Disney movies and potato chips. It was the perfect way to pass the time.

He sat on the couch, chip bowl in one hand and remote in the other. He clicked the power button, and the television turned blue for a second, before turning off. Before he could try to switch it back on, the rest of the room started losing lights, until eventually the entire house was swarmed in darkness.

It was a damn power outage.

Samuel fumbled around the house, feeling his way toward the kitchen and then the drawer beside the stove, which thankfully held a flashlight within it. He held the flashlight up, clicking the button to see if it was dead or not, and when it started glowing, he made his way back to the couch. It was now both dark _and_ boring, what a fun thing.

About ten minutes passed, and the power was still completely out.

It was really, really lonely.

Samuel laid down on the couch for a moment. He was extremely sleepy, but unable to sleep. The thunder was too loud, and it was too dark for him to feel at ease enough to pass out, even out on the couch. So, he sat there, in the dark, doing absolutely _nothing._

 _Another ten minutes passed._ Samuel was just restless. He tried to think of some activity to help him pass the time, but there were really very few options around him. He looked at his flashlight, then the door, then his flashlight again. Maybe he’d go check and make sure he wasn’t the only one whose lights were out! That could pass the time well.

Samuel left his home, grasping his flashlight in one hand and a second one for backup in the other. One never knows when they could run out of battery. He stepped about three feet away from his house, peering off of a balcony to check out everything around him. All of the houses were dark. Some other people were out of their houses with flashlights or cell phones, calling friends or family for a place to stay. It was raining really really hard still.

Samuel made his way around the building, up and down stairs. He didn’t know how, or _why_ he did it, but he made it around so far that he had hit about around the area that George was staying at. It wasn’t intentional, or so he swore, but he decided that it was probably okay. Maybe the guy needed a flashlight! What a good samaritan Samuel was.

He didn’t even bother rapping on the door. Instead, he opened the already unlocked building, and peered inside with a flashlight. “Don’t hit me with a bat or anything, it’s just Samuel. Hello? George, are you there?” He called this back, but heard no answer. “You asleep?”

“Hello!” He heard a voice. It sounded peculiar, almost too high pitched to be George.

“Um, hello…?”

“ _Squawk,_ hello!”

The damn parrot. He closed the door behind him, and a dark figure emerged from the back room. He flashes his light toward it, revealing a very sleepy co-worker and his chattery bird perched on his shoulder. George shielded his eyes from the light.

“Get that out of my face immediately.”

Samuel clicked his second flashlight on and moved them so that they weren’t shining directly on George. They both made their way to the two couches in the middle of the room.

“I thought you might need some light,” Samuel said, “after all, I didn’t see a flashlight on when I came in the house.”

“I was trying to sleep,” George replied, “and I would have been able to, had you not barged in like that. Besides, I keep a lantern under the coffee table.” George flicked a switch, which turned on a lantern that was a little dim, but still bright enough to where George and Samuel could see each other clearly.

“Oh.” Samuel turned his flashlights off, and turned away. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine, I’m glad I guess. But I’m very confused.” George glared a little bit.

“About?”

“I’m just wondering, why did you decide to come to my place. And, also, _how_  did you get here without falling off of the building?”

“I wanted to see if you needed a flashlight.”

“So your first thought,” He said, smirking, “is to get me a flashlight? You do know that I have a phone, right?”

“It wasn’t my _first_ thought,” Samuel replied quickly, “I just had nothing better to do. It was dark for like, twenty minutes or something before I got here.”

“So your first thought after twenty minutes of being alone in the dark is to come find me?”

“Don’t flatter yourself!”

George laughed. “You came at the right time, I guess. I was just about to polish some artifacts before the lights went out. I can’t do it in the dark, or even with a lantern, and so I got really bored.”

“Wait, you have artifacts?” Samuel’s eyes widened. “What kind of artifacts? Like, bones or something?”

“No,” George shook his head. “I just have some old things that my father used to buy from expensive auctions. Like old coins, dusty armour, broken pieces of crowns, things like that.”

“That’s pretty neat, actually!” Samuel smiled a little bit.

“Yeah, it is. I’ll show you some when the lights turn back on in town.”

“That would be pretty nice. I’d love to see some stuff, although I’ll warn you, I know nothing about history.” He scratched the back of his head. “I’ll probably just say things like, ‘that’s cool!’ or ‘wow!’ and you’ll have to pretend that it was a well thought out comment.” He laughed, and George laughed along with him.

Charlemagne jumped off of George’s shoulder in fright from all of the movement, and George looked down at it. It was walking along the floor peacefully, so he didn’t worry much about it. “You still don’t like history? That’s too bad, you’d make an excellent historical writer.”

Samuel raised an eyebrow at this. “I’m sorry, did you just call me excellent? That’s new.”

“Of course, you’re good at some things.”

It was silent for a moment, and then Samuel broke it.

“It’s funny,” Samuel said, placing a palm to his own forehead, “I never thought I’d be the one coming over like this. I’m in your house, having an actual _conversation!_ It’s just not how I pictured the way we’d work together. But here we are, talking!” He started to get tense.

“That is strange.” George looked to the side in thought.

“The question is, why am I here, talking to you? Why am I not yelling at you like usual? I didn’t even want to be here, yet I did, and I’m not sure why. Why do you come to see me? You’ve never specified that!” His voice got much louder every time he said a sentence, which worried George just the slightest.

“Samuel, are you alright? Calm down, you sound really upset!”

Samuel’s ears became hot as he realised his tone. He muttered out a quiet “sorry.”

“It’s fine I guess, but don’t turn crazy on me! I can barely handle your babbling without that.” George looked at the ground for a second before continuing. “In case you cared about why _I_ come over, it’s because I’m an extrovert, and it’s much easier to get my energy when I can talk to other people.”

“Why do you go to me? There’s people all over the city. I’m sure you could strike up a conversation with anybody you wanted to. You’re incredibly talkative.”

George looked at the ground and smiled nervously. “Ah, I don’t like small talk, it makes me very uncomfortable.”

“What about Angelica, she lives around here too.”

“She’s too serious! I feel weird around her. You’re surprisingly easy to talk to.” George shook his head, and decided to change the subject. “What about you? You let me over! I wonder why you don’t kick me out already. You don’t even complain about it anymore.”

Samuel didn’t even hesitate to answer, “I don’t _know_ why I let you over.”

“You don’t know? What’s that supposed to mean?”

Samuel looked right at him with wide eyes, “I mean that I _don’t know!_ I’m not as annoyed I guess? I’m an introvert, but I get lonely so I-” He shook his head. “Sorry, that’s weird. I’m sorry. Sorry.“

“No no, I understand. Although, it’s strange- you really are like a teenager. I mean, when it comes to emotions. I’ve yet to meet somebody your age that still can’t tell his emotions apart- not to be rude.”

“I know, it’s bad. But I can’t really help it!” His voice raised. “I haven’t had any immediate family alive since I was like, twelve, the foster care system was particularly awful about adult-child connections within the-”

“Wait, what about your family?” George asked, his eyebrows furrowing.

“Oh, you didn’t know it yet? I’m an orphan, George. And I suck at being an adult- a mix of that, having one friend, and working with teenagers makes me how I am.”

“I’m sorry,” George said sincerely, “ I feel bad. I’m always coming over talking about myself and my family, I didn’t even notice that your situation was entirely different.”

Samuel sighed. “No no, it’s fine. I like listening to your stories- it’s nice to hear about when you were happy- so long that it’s not harmful to me, that is.”

“You enjoy my stories?”

“Yeah.” Samuel paused for a second, looking away from his coworker. “And the company that comes with them.”

“You enjoy… my company?” George looked at Samuel with shock. He seemed completely perplexed, like he was unable to fathom the idea of Samuel being _happy_ at the thought of seeing him.

Samuel looked away timidly once more. “Yeah... “ The house was silent and dark. The only light that flickered out was from the lamp, which was still just bright enough to see two faces and the top of a coffee table.

George broke the silence. “Well, that settles it.” He slapped his knee..

“Settles what?” Samuel glared.

“We can’t be enemies anymore. We can’t be enemies, we’re too nice to each other.” George stood up from the couch and cracked his knuckles. “I hereby declare us-”

“Non-enemies?”

“I-” George glared at Samuel, who was inevitably clueless. “I- no Sammy, friends. We’re friends, you doof.”

“Oh, we’re friends?”

“Yes, which means I get to call you Sammy, and you can’t complain!” George’s cheerful self was back, and his egotistical demeanor was too. “When the lights come on, I’ll show you my artifacts. Until then, let’s get a _slightly lukewarm_ drink and some ice- _oh god! My freezer hasn’t been running for an hour!”_ George grabbed his hair and started pulling it stressfully it stressfully.

“Don’t worry Georgie, we can buy some more ice cream.”

“ _I have a smoothie in there!"_ George laid down on the floor in front of his couch in distress.

“I can just make you a new one. That’s the kind of weird shit that friends are for, right?” Samuel bent down in front of George.

He sniffed. “You’d do that?”

“Yep. You’re paying for the stuff I don’t have though.”

_That’s what friends are for._

Angelica was right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's back and better than ever? And also a little less sick?  
> Here's that fluffy shit you've been waiting for, and it only gets better from here. I hope you enjoy this!  
> Here's to me not being completely sick and stressed! Cheers!  
> Edit: I just want to note that my format is really weird this time around, and that's because I'm using a new medium for my writing. I hope everything is still understandable, and I'm gonna snoop around on different devices to make sure that it is. Thanks as always! Feel free to talk to me about whatever you want.


	7. Characters are Easier to Understand in Reading than in Real Life

“Okay, so, in order to understand everything about this workplace, you need to learn the uh, kinda… _hierarchy_ of the school.”

“Educate me.”

By the time that Monday had come around, there was much to be done. This went double for Samuel, after all, he _had_ just made a friend, and was currently eating lunch with him. However, he wasn’t really sure what he was supposed to do with this _friend_ of his.

“Alright,” Samuel started, searching around the teacher break room for people. He pointed at Alexander, who was sitting across from Angelica and chatting about some weird, probably political topic. “That’s Alexander, AKA Mr. Hamilton. He’s a huge asshole.”

George smirked. “You don’t have to tell me that again.”

“He’s the eleventh-grade AP writing teacher. His students despise him. Angelica told me he gives out three-page typed essay assignments every week, and a timed quiz every day, along with dozens of projects throughout the year. He does often forget things, so there’s that, but you’re _lucky_ if you get into a different AP writing class, ‘cause he has 70 percent of the students.”

“Yikes, sounds brutal. Imagine having to grade a hundred papers every week.” He shuddered.

Samuel then pointed across from Alexander. “That’s Mz. Angelica Schuyler, you know her. Students love her, nobody fucks around with her. She’s the only other sophomore English honors teacher besides me, and she’s also the leader of STUCO. She’s a queen.”

“She’s very organized. I think she’s the only person you haven’t complained about this year.”

“Literally nobody hates her. She’s too good. Just… don’t get on her bad side. You’ll regret it.”

“Understood.”

Samuel pointed toward two men standing together by the vending machine, one was tall and thin and the other short and chubby. “The tall one in plaid is Mr. Thomas Jefferson. Angelica despises him. He teaches calculus and geometry upstairs. He and Madison, the short guy next to him, have been dating for several years. Been together since they were in highschool with me.”

“You went to highschool with them?”

“Oh yeah. Don’t get me started.” Samuel glared. “I have no desire to be associated with either of them.”

“Oh, but Madison seems like a lovely sort of man. He’s very plain, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. He seems very calm.”

“Yeah, he’s great ‘til he starts talkin,” Samuel hissed, moving on to the next person. “That guy over there is Mr. John Laurens, everybody’s favorite biology teacher. He smells like fucking roses.”

“Oh yes.” George smiled dazedly, “He looks absolutely precious.”

“I have to agree with you there. Don’t get your hopes up, though, the man is already going after Alexander with all hands on deck. I don’t know why, though. Alexander already went through a divorce once, and he’s impulsively angry. I have some shit against John though too, so I guess I don’t really care, but damn is it annoying to hear them talk about each other- it’s like watching some dumb romantic drama written for middle schoolers. Anyway, he has a turtle, so that’s neat.”

George cringed. “Eh, I don’t like reptiles. They look weird.” The bell rang, signaling the end of the lunch period. “Ah, I have a class to teach. See you at our stop. Let’s get those smoothies going, shall we?”

“Hell yeah.”

Sixth period was Samuel’s free period. He loved the charming silence that he was able to enjoy, especially now that he had one less drama-king to worry about fighting with. It seemed that, for some reason, there was stress to come out on top. It was relaxing. Friendship’s so tactical.

After the seventh period, and the final bell rang, Samuel stopped to pick George up at his classroom. The man was furiously trying to get papers situated, so Samuel helped put them where they needed to be, and set off for the ride home.

The bus was crowded. Samuel and George didn’t chat much, contrary to their previous bickering. It was different now, right? No more of that silly fighting. When they got off at the stop by the market, Samuel tried making conversation.

“So, you’re quiet.” What a good way to start off.

“I am?” he replied, his tone rising. “I’m sorry, I’m just thinking.”

“‘Bout what?” Samuel asked curiously.

“You.”

Samuel looked at him, shocked. “Excuse me?”

George shook his head. “No, no, I mean…” He laughed nervously. “I don’t mean it like that! I mean that, you’re weird. That’s a good thing! I always meet the same old people, but you…”

“Me?”

“You’re abnormal.”

Samuel glared. “Um, thanks?” He scratched his head. “I don’t know if I should feel inclined to take that as a compliment or not.”

“Do as you wish.” George smiled as they reached the door. “Ah yes, the best part. I hope they have the strawberry-banana ones.”

“Strawberry-banana whats?”

“You know, at the sweets counter. They make smoothies. They're a little expensive, but I can pay for them.”

Samuel cringed and shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but no thank you. I’m not consuming anything from there.”

"Well why not?"

"Bad experience with the cakes from there. Don't want to talk about it."

“Well, I don’t know how else we’re going to make them.” George crossed his arms and glared.

Samuel stopped him. “I was under the impression that we were _making_ them. Since you’re an idiot and apparently don’t know how drinks work, I’m going to show you how to make _your own_  smoothies. None of that plastic-bag, low quality crap. First, we need to go there. Strawberries and bananas right?” He pointed to the produce section. “Please get two or three bananas, and a pack of strawberries. We’re doing it by scratch. I need yogurt or low pulp orange juice and a small bag of ice.”

“Yogurt-juice? Wait, did you just call me an idiot?”George looked at him, confused as hell.

Samuel sighed. “You go get the strawberries and bananas, I’ll get the rest. Don't worry about paying, either.” With that, Samuel and George split up in the store. Samuel picked out yogurt and ice, and set it in a shopping basket. George had strawberries and three bananas, which was enough for Samuel to make do with.

It was still light out by the time they got to George’s house, There was just enough time to make fruit smoothies to go with dinner, or however they intended to use them.

“Alright Georgie, let’s get this started.” Samuel laid out all of the ingredients on his counter. “Get me a blender please.”

“This better be great,” George said as he removed the bender from a cabinet. “If I’m not dying in amazement, I’m going to be very disappointed.”

Samuel flicked his shoulder angrily. “I know what I’m doing!”

“Okay, okay! Just hurry up already.”

“Okay, yogurt first, then fruit, then ice. Blend on medium and then high. It’s really that simple.” He started putting the ingredients in carefully.

“Why is it in that particular order?” George frowned. “Why can’t I put in another thing first?”

“Well, I suppose you could, but I’m mostly just speaking from experience. It blends easier, or something. That’s what my culinary instructor said, I think.”

“Alright, whatever. I’m going to turn on the blender.” He started at low, and then slowly worked his way up to medium, while Samuel added ice pieces as necessary.

When it was seemingly smooth and thick enough, Samuel turned it off. “Okay, cups and straws please”

“Okay…” George replied hesitantly, retrieving the items from the cabinet.

Samuel distributed the drinks. “Try it.”

George looked his glass up and down and left to right, before hesitantly drinking through his straw. After setting his glass back down, he looked up at Samuel blankly, not speaking.

Samuel glared. “Um, so?”

“It’s amazing.”

Samuel’s eyes widened. “It is?”

“I’ve officially died with amazement!”

Samuel grinned. “You’re dying!”

George shook his head. “That sounds a lot more morbid than I intended.”

“Please don’t die, you owe me money for these ingredients. Or something of equal value, like chips. Your choice.” He drank his own.

“I have to admit, I didn’t think you’d be the type to be able to make drinks, but you’re utterly fantastic!” He drank again.

“Thanks, that means a lot coming from you, considering that this is literally one of the easiest things to make. I feel like this is the best compliment you’ve gave me before, aside from ‘you’re good at some things.’”

George Laughed. “I don’t compliment lightly.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment too.” Samuel looked at his phone. “Anyway, I’m gonna get going. If you ever need a very unprofessional man to make drinks for you again, don’t be afraid to call. But only during the day, please. If you call me at midnight, I might just punch you.”

“Aw, you’re really going already? That’s too bad.”

“I have essays to grade, sorry. Busy day.”

“Well I hadn’t really planned on you leaving so soon! Since you’re going though, I wanted to give you something.” George rushed to his room, and then back to the kitchen. He handed Samuel a plain white box with a pretty ribbon. He rubbed the back of his head nervously. “I forgot to show you the other day. Don’t lose it, or _I_ might just punch _you_.”

“Gee, thanks. I’ll uh, keep that in mind.” Samuel made his way to the door. “See you later.”

“Don’t hit your tail on the way out.”

Once samuel got home, he sat down on the couch with the little box in his hand. He shook it lightly, hearing a small clinking noise coming from it. _‘Don’t lose it, huh?”_  he opened it, half expecting some sort of passive aggressive message, half expecting trash.

When he peered in, there was something different entirely. It was two shiny, golden coins, and a small sticky note that read: ‘ _I was going to tell you about them, but I didn’t think you’d appreciate an hour long lecture. These are medieval and English. Cheers!’_

_An actual gift! Not trash. No insults. The fighting hadn’t subsided fully, but that was okay right? Is there really any rules to friendliness? Why smoothies? Why coins?  Why was this so confusing?_ Samuel asked himself all of these things at once that evening, but couldn’t find an answer to himself. Things really were different, and Samuel didn’t know if he liked that.

He did, however, enjoy the coins, and the company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo, guess who is actually on time this time? Me, that's who! I've been working on many projects along with this out-of-class one, so my schedule is a little tight, but I'm actually on top of it this week! I feel good.  
> Anyway, business stuff: This is a slightly "filler" chapter, the next one digs a little deeper into the whole "fighting" thing, and has a little more plot than drink-making. I'm hoping to have it out on time for y'all!  
> Thank you all for reading, and as always, thank you so so SO much for commenting. It's always nice to hear that I make people happy with my silly stories.


	8. Let's Keep this Between You and Me

Groggy morning. Samuel lifted himself out of bed, and toward the door. He was  _ not  _  a morning person. Actually, he wasn’t really an any-time kind of person, but mornings sure were the worst. And to add on to that, there was currently  _ no  _ coffee in his house.  _ “It’s fine,’  _ he thought,  _ ‘it’s fine.’ _

He was late all morning. His alarm clock, which had been set to PM instead of AM, did not go off that morning. He stood in the shower for too long, looking for a shampoo bottle that was actually not there. His toast burned, his hair was a mess, and his tie was out of place. 

Well, that’s what new weeks are like, he guessed.

By the time he had arrived to work, there were already students flooding the halls. The bell hadn’t rang, but it was very close to happening. No amount of coffee could help him this morning. 

Alexander was currently chatting with a student down the hall. Thomas was pleading with James about something or other while walking upstairs, most likely some sort of silly favor that he couldn’t (or didn’t want to) repay. Two students sat right next to Samuel’s classroom, eating noodles and drinking milk. The hall was loud, as usual, but not too much so. Nothing there changed, besides the fact that Samuel was late.

Then there was George.

He and Angelica were chatting it up in Angelica’s classroom, which Samuel noticed when he was passing down that hallway. They were making remarks and then laughing, and seemingly becoming very well acquainted. It was probably good that George was making progress with small talk. Samuel decided to go check in on the conversation, and to his surprise, George began speaking with him right away.

“Ah, Sammy, we were just talking about you,” George said, walking away from Angelica. “I wish you had come earlier.”

“Me too,” Angelica said, annoyed as ever. Her arms were crossed and her stance was slumped, and she couldn’t really leave her  _ own  _ room to get out of… whatever situation she was so obviously trying to avoid.

Samuel coughed. “Um, anyway, good morning. George, class is about to start, and today is the last day for donations for the fundraiser, so…”

“Ah, of course. Almost forgot. I should probably start counting up the money, and all that.” George’s voice was awkward and mellow, very unlike how he usually was. He was very disoriented, too, as he nearly tripped on his way out of the classroom

What was going on that day?

Once George left, Angelica sighed, sounding relieved. “Thank god, I thought I was gonna have to deal with that forever.”

“What do you mean?” Samuel was confused.

“I mean his talking. He has asked me over ten times how I am, and constantly mentions the same things over again- I feel like I’m listening to a broken record. It’s weird, too, because he’s never really started a conversation with me that wasn’t school related- but whatever.”

_ ‘He’s trying to small-talk’  _ was all Samuel could think about. He smiled slightly. First time smiling that day. “You know, I never thought it would happen, but we’ve become friends, Angelica. I think he’s trying to broaden his horizon.”

“He needs to try harder. Not to be rude.” Angelica started typing at her computer, and the starting bell rang. “Goodbye, Seabury.”

“Bye.”

Long day at school. George and Samuel counted up the money for their classes, and they were doing pretty well, it seemed. They didn’t visit each other that day, as it was pretty stressful, and there wasn’t really much to talk  _ about, _ besides their current standings in the homeroom competition. If it weren’t such a stressful day, Samuel would’ve struck up a conversation. Too bad it was.

Right before Samuel got on the bus, he was met by Angelica and Peggy. That was unexpected, considering that they left almost always later than him. He waved to them, and then sat in a seat further back. 

They got off at the same place too. Maybe they  _ were _ just leaving earlier than most days. Samuel decided not to pry, though, and parted ways at his apartment, as usual. 

His room was the same. His bed, the same. There were papers to grade, slideshows to make, and bills to pay, but  _ damn  _ was he tired. And  _ damn,  _ did his bed look comfortable. A quick nap wouldn’t hurt. After all, it was pretty clear that he needed one.

So, he fell asleep. And  _ damn,  _ did that feel good.

There was much too much to think about. Hopefully, Samuel would wake up from his nap feeling better and more refreshed, and he could get to being worried about grading and calling parents. 

He slept for about two or so hours, before waking up to a knock at the door. ‘ _ George, probably.”  _ Sleep was good and all, but there was no avoiding George’s spontaneity.  

“I’m coming,” he said, walking over to the door. He opened it to reveal a very shaky, disoriented George at his door. 

“Mind if I pop in a bit?” George asked, smiling awkwardly. “I’m a bit jittery.”

Samuel, who was still half asleep, just rubbed the back of his head and nodded as a response. He closed the door behind his friend, who sat on the couch silently, still looking quite spooked. Samuel poured some milk for himself, and some lemon tea for George, and set them both on the coffee table in the living room. “Drink.”

“Alright.” George picked up his cup and looked inside of it. “Tea? I thought you didn’t drink that. You called it “grass water,” if I recall correctly.

Samuel laughed nervously and looked down. “No, not really, but I know it’s what  _ you  _ like. And you come over a lot, so…” he trailed off.

George cracked a smile. “Oh, you didn’t have to. That’s very kind.”

“No worries. What did you come over to talk about, anyways?” He took a sip of his milk.

“Ah, to be honest, I’m not really sure. It’s been a long day, and I just wanted to be around people.” 

“I don’t mean this in a rude way, but couldn’t you have gone to the store or something? I feel like that would have been more effective.”

He grimaced a bit. “I’d rather be around people I know.”

Samuel widened his eyes a bit. “Oh yeah, I heard that you were trying to converse with Angelica today. I told you that you could do it!”

“It was  _ very  _ uncomfortable. I got all nervous, and I couldn’t think of things to say, so I just kept repeating myself over and over again. It was draining. I was relieved to see you there.”

“Well, it’s a start.”

“It was embarrassing.

“That makes it all the more endearing! Kudos to you.”

“I’m just glad I don’t have to do it anymore. Thanks for letting me sit in here every once in awhile.”

“Sure, anytime.” He paused, and glared. “Well, so long as you’re not here during my introvert time. It’s very crucial that I am alone.”

“I understand.” George put three fingers up, and put his other hand over his heart. I, George William Frederick, will not come into Samuel Seabury’s home during introvert time. Or Sundays.” He kept his face serious for a few seconds, before breaking out laughing, and Samuel laughed along with him.

“You’re a nut. But I’m glad you get it. Extroverts usually don’t. I have a very limited amount of social energy, and it’s a requirement that I get some sit-at-home-by-myself-and-read-time.”

“Sorry if I’m breaking in during that time. I’ll leave if you need me to.” 

Samuel cracked a smile. “No, you’re fine. Like I said, I have a limited amount of social energy, especially after working with people all day.” He looked at George, bright eyed. “I just happen to choose to spend that energy on you!”

“I feel blessed.” He chuckled. “I do wonder though, how do you not have like, a line of people coming to talk to you?”

Samuel’s eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t have a lot of people that like me. I’m a bit much, if that even makes sense.”

“It doesn’t.”

He sighed. “I’m childish, is why. I’m very irritable, and I can barely hold onto the relationships I already have. Also, I’m an introvert, so that doesn’t help. I also chose the wrong town to reside in-” He stopped his sentence.

“What does that mean? What do you mean you reside in the wrong town?”

Samuel sighed and closed his eyes, glaring. “Keep this between us, but Alexander’s always been out to get me. He’s close with like, everybody in the workplace. That is, except Thomas, but him and James are a whole different story.” He shrugged and slouched back. “We’ve been rivals since  _ high school. _ He hates me. He hated me back then, and he made sure that I had a bad relationship with everybody else, too. It was worse because we went to a catholic school.”

“Oh, that’s right. You were at bible-thumpin’ Vargas Catholic high up north a bit from here. Yikes. What, were you gay or something?”

“I am, but that’s got nothing to do with it.  _ He’s  _ gay George, that’d be a bit hypocritical.” 

George strayed off topic for a second. “Wait, so you  _ are  _ gay? Surprising.”

“With all due respect, George, I called John Laurens hot. In front of you.”

He shook his head. “Okay, but that’s different- even straight people would think he’s fine as hell.”

“That’s true… but still.” He grimaced and shook his head. “Anyway! Back on track. He was always friends with everybody, but he did not like me. He doesn’t like people who have differing opinions than him. W used to be on debate team, and he hated to lose. He also thinks I’m stuck up, which is true, but so is he! Anyway, if he didn’t like someone, then his lackeys didn’t either. That stuck from high school til’ now. That’s why Charles and I were so close, because nobody liked him either. The only difference is that they don’t like him because he’s kind of an asshole.”

“Wow, what a jerk. I mean, I already knew I hated him for a totally different reason, but god, he really turned everybody on you?”

“Yeah, I know I sound like I’m being insecure, but that’s just how things work, you know?” He patted George on the back. “Thankfully, I have my worst enemy here to keep me company. Also, Angelica, who’s literally nice to everybody, excluding Aaron and Thomas.”

“Thankfully, I, too, hate him. For totally different reasons entirely, but I can’t stand him.”

“I’m glad we can agree on that. Still, though, don’t speak a word of this to him, or Angelica, or  _ anybody _ for that matter.”

“Got it,’ George replied, looking down at his now empty teacup. “Oh, by the way, thank you for going out of your way to get this for me. Quite honestly, I think it’s one of the nicest gestures you’ve made toward me in my time knowing you!”

“Don’t be sarcastic! And you’re welcome. I try to make myself hospitable. Thanks for giving me strange and probably important artifacts, Georgie.” He smirked.

“No problem, Sammy. Now, tomorrow we’ll count up our funds. You’re great, I’m great, Alexander’s a dick. I’m going home now. Please don’t hesitate to kick me out earlier next time, if you need to.”

“Nope, don’t need to. You always leave at a perfect time.”

“Really? Why, aren’t you tired of me yet?”

“I enjoy your company, asshole. Now leave. Introvert time.” He breathed in and stretched his arms.

“Got it!” George made his way toward the door, but stopped right in front of it. “Also… thanks, for making me a bit less stressed. That’s why I like coming over here.”

Samuel was slightly thrown off by the seriousness in his voice. “Oh, uh, you’re welcome, man. So long.”

He left. It wasn’t such a stressful day anymore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everybody! I'm sporadic, I know. Let's get that squared away.  
> How are you all doing? Personally, I've been under a lot of stress. I've been busy with a bit of schoolwork, but n the brightside, some of my school writing is being featured in my school's magazine, so I've been really trying to edit and get that under control. It's been stressful, but now I can get back to my for-fun writing. Thanks for waiting, and as always, I hope you enjoy.   
> P.S. I'll try to be speedy next time y'all!


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